Choices2

The Inheritance
(Fathers and Sons)

Franklin Leroy Fredrick I. The legacy of a God given musical genius originated with him. Playing in the crowded, smoke filled juke joints scattered along the Louisiana and Mississippi bayous, his sound was magical. Always the charming playboy with those sensual lips wrapped around that beautiful brass mouthpiece; spitting out those magical notes. Women could not resist him. He was smooth without even trying. Most men either admired him or envied him; knowing that Franklin Leroy would be the one most likely to walk away with the prize. Nevertheless, people would come from miles around just to sit outside to hear him play.

Franklin Leroy never knew his Dad. He was an only child, raised by his Mom, her sisters and their girlfriends; completely surrounded by females. It was no wonder he grew up to be such a charmer with the ladies. There weren’t many men in their small waterfront community. Most had drifted north to find work. They seldom returned to claim the wives and children they left behind.

When Franklin Leroy was about eight years old, he ventured to ask those dreaded questions about his Dad. The pain and hurt he saw in his Mom’s eyes prompted him to never ask again. The day he turned ten, his Mom left a brown package at the foot of his bed. Inside the package was a brass horn. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Music had always been a part of his life. He grew up listening to the jazz sounds of the bayou. His mother was always singing and humming tune after tune around the house as she did her chores. He loved the feel of it all. That morning, the sunlight glinted off of the metal in his hands through the window. The touch of it excited him. The initials ‘F L’ were engraved on the lip of the bell. He’d never played an instrument as slick as this before but he did cherish the wooden pipe his Mom had given him on his sixth birthday. He taught himself how to play the darn thing and could belt out quite a few popular tunes on that old wood pipe over the years. Althea Fredrick would sit and listen to her son play at the end of her long, tiring day at the wash house. Sometimes she’d sing along or hum to a familiar tune. She had a beautiful voice. Everyone said so.

Only a select few in the waterfront village remembers the love affair between a local, young beautiful singer and the very handsome, very married, traveling trumpet player, Franklin Leroy, from Midnight, Mississippi. Their attraction to each other defied all laws of fidelity. She was so in love with her trumpet player and he was in love with her. At least, until the end of his three month jazz tour in Louisiana. Then, he was gone. In his haste, he left behind his most prized possession. His trumpet. Unknowingly, he left behind something else even more precious. A new life. A child. He never knew.

Althea suspected she was pregnant when she missed her period in April. May rolled around and still no sign. June came and went. So did her beloved trumpet player. The band’s gig was finished. They were moving on. He never even said goodbye. When she found his trumpet under her bed, she was sure he’d return to retrieve it. So, she waited. And waited. July, August, and September were difficult times for her. Her pending motherhood grew more apparent with each passing month. Many in the small village were whispering behind her back. But each time she felt a kick or a bump inside her stomach, she experienced a joy she’d never be ashamed of. In December, a child was born. A son. She had a part of her beloved trumpet player that was hers forever and no one could take that joy from her. She held no ill feelings. She even gave him his father’s name. Franklin Leroy, with the addition of her last name. Althea Fredrick cried with tears of joy and sadness as she welcomed her son into the world. Franklin Leroy Fredrick, born December 10.

The legacy had begun.